Suddenly wherever I look I see Mums. I probably couldn't even name the flowers a year ago but now this Fall they are wherever I look. It's like when you learn a new word and it's everywhere. Then you wonder, 'was I just ignoring that word before?' What else do I not notice in the course of a day? There must be an entire parallel stream of things constantly passing me by. A few years ago I was given a slightly worrying diagnosis about my eyesight and had to do a follow-up exam. Thankfully all was fine but I remember that on the way back I was hyper conscious of my eyes and all they took in. It was around this time of year and there were bright orange pumpkins in the markets. I looked at them closer than I ever had and even convinced myself that I would never take my eyes for granted again (I was young.) But of course every gratitude recedes. Some of it gradually, others forms more suddenly. A health scare. The passing of a school mate. It hits hard then the bruise goes away. Aging is one type of antidote for this. And so is art. Certain films that reframe thankfullness are still with me. Wings of Desire and that scene with Peter Falk talking about the simple joys of a coffee and a cigarette.  Or that feeling I had seeing a renaissance painting of an Italian palazzo at a museum in Paris...sneaking into Cine Citta studios in Rome and walking around on the set of Scorsese's Gangs of New York...And touring the War Museum in London with my dad and coming upon the artillery gun his unit used in the desert. Certain moments like that are illuminated. But also. For no reason at all the most mundane occurrences can get imbued with a kind of fairy dust. Like we all have invisible angels somewhere looking out for us.